Herself, Her mind, and the Edge of Her Bed
by Anna Lane
Summary: Olivia suffers from some side affects of the mind treatments from the Other Side.


**Just me imaging a possible future for Olivia, and I don't own Fringe. **

Peter waited and hoped he would get the chance to talk to Olivia. She came out of Walter's office and walked right past him. He sighed as Olivia walked away. She barely said four words to him since she got back, and she could never meet his eye. He didn't blame her because he could hardly forgive himself. Ever since she got back to the right universe and exposed EVIL Olivia-that's the only way Peter could bear to think of her and all her lies-she had been distant, and Peter knew she must be hurting deeply. No one noticed that an imposter stole her life, not her sister, not Astrid, not Broils, not Walter, and not Peter. Peter should have noticed.

Olivia lay back in bed and held a pill up to her face to examine. Walter gave it to her to help with the hallucinations. He said they'd also help with her little memory problem, but that wasn't as bad as the hallucinations. She could remember most things, and she hadn't forgotten a thing since she came back, she only really worried about herself seeing things. So far she could only tell Walter about it all, and she asked him not to tell anyone else. Of course, she hadn't told Walter _everything_ about the hallucinations. One fact being that she only sees Peter. It had surprised Olivia, at first, that Walter was the only one she could talk to. Upon further pondering, Olivia realized that it couldn't make more perfect sense. Who better for a crazy person to talk to than another crazy person? She re-examined the pill and set it on her nightstand, opting not to take it, and not for the first time. She told herself it was red, and red was the color of the pills she took _back there_.

"You're not fooling anyone, Olivia."

Olivia squeezed her eyes shut even as her whole body warmed, and tried to look stressed. She'd been waiting for him forever, it seemed.

"Olivia," he warned, and Olivia stopped trying. Her whole body relaxed and she snuggled into her covers and peered at him with them pulled up to her nose. _At least this way he can't see my smile_, she thought to herself, which was when it really hit her that she was insane. He was a hallucination, a product of her mind, what she knew so did he. "That's true, but it's cute anyway", he said, gesturing towards her mouth.

She pulled it down so she could talk. "You helped me escape, so why are you still here?"

"Do we have to do this every night?" Peter lifted the covers and slid into bed next to her. Despite everything, Olivia scooted towards him and she curled against him when he put his arm around her. She didn't know how she could be imagining all this. How warm he was, how strong he felt, how good he smelled. "You know if you took those pills it might be like this." he whispered into her hair.

"I know," she whispered back.

He smiled into her hair, "I know you do."

Her eyes closed and she fell asleep just like that, with a smile still on her lips.

"Olivia, Olivia, wake up," Peter called to her.

"Mmm, Peter, come back to bed." Olivia traced the arm nudging her up to his shoulder and pulled him down over her. Both arms went around him and she nuzzled his warm neck. She now knew it was even better waking up next to him, which despite his many and numerous appearances it her life, had never happened before. Neither had the struggling.

He tried gently disentangling his arm, but then she had cuddled up to him and he had frozen for just a second. It reminded him too much of the _other_ Olivia. He tried to pull off her arms and was beginning to feel too hot and smothered. "Olivia!" Peter's voice broke and Olivia's eyes snapped open in surprise. "Broils has a case for us." Peter backed up a few steps.

Olivia was blushing furiously and it was that moment that Olivia wasn't ever aware of just how deeply Fauxlivia's deception had gone.

"Peter-I-I'm sorry, I-" She got out of bed and Peter's eyes hurriedly averted themselves. Fauxlivia slept with an oversized tee and boxers, the real one? Nothing. He almost heard her look down, and he couldn't help his smile when he heard her rush out of the room for her bathroom.

Olivia splashed water into her face and resisted the urge to smack her head into a wall. It couldn't hurt. The brain damage might be preferable to the state her head was in now. First she can't tell the difference between fantasy and reality, and then she had to go and flash him. Great.


End file.
